


Prom Promise

by youbeyou



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Banter, But without smut, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Gemma Styles & Louis Tomlinson Friendship, High School Student Harry, Lead up to prom, Light Angst, Louis and Gemma not Louis and Harry, M/M, Prom, Roommates, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, The actual prom is not part of the fic, University Student Louis, Virgin Harry, Virginity, sleeping on sofas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-30 03:59:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10868616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youbeyou/pseuds/youbeyou
Summary: “I’m gonna go to that prom,” Harry tells him, pointing a finger in his ex’s face. “I’m gonna get a date who’s hot and nice and likes me for who I am and I am gonna have the time of my life. And you, Jeremy, are gonna wish you’d never let me get away.”OrIt's two weeks to prom and Harry needs a date.





	Prom Promise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thefray](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefray/gifts).



> To my recipient. This was a pinch hit. Sorry it took so long. I was so moved by the prompt about your grandparents that I couldn't resist this one. I hope you like it.
> 
> Thank you to Jacky for the beta. You're wonderful!

_**16 Days Until Prom** _

 

“You- What?” Harry asks, he’s not sure he heard right over the sound of his heart pounding crazily in his chest.

Jeremy sighs, and scrubs a hand over his face. “Look, I don’t want to be the asshole that expects more from you than you’re willing to give.”

“So, you’re breaking up with me because I’m not ready to have sex with you?!?” Call him naïve but that sounds pretty asshole-ish too if you ask Harry.

Jeremy takes another deep breath, looking at Harry with eyes that he’s sure are supposed to convey some kind of apology. They’re not really working all that well, if you ask him though. They mostly look pitying. “I’ll still take you to prom, if you want.”

Harry scoffs. “Don’t do me any favors, dickhead,” he says, voice biting in a way he didn’t know he was capable of. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this angry before. It’s a righteous anger, one that drives him to say stupid things out of a false sense of bravado. “I’m gonna go to that prom,” Harry tells him, pointing a finger in his ex’s face. “I’m gonna get a date who’s hot and nice and likes me for who I am and I am gonna have the time of my life. And you, Jeremy, are gonna wish you’d never let me get away.”

“It’s two weeks until prom. There’s no way you’re gonna find a date this late. No one wants to take a whiny  _ kid _ to prom,” Jeremy snaps putting emphasis on the ‘kid’ part.

Apparently, he’s done playing nice since Harry doesn’t feel like putting up with his shit.

“Yeah, well then good luck finding a date yourself, you fucking prick,” Harry returns without missing a beat. He stands tall, hitching his bookbag up onto his shoulder and storming off down the hallway ignoring the eyes of all of his peers that just stood by and watched his very public breakup.

“Have fun watching those stupid chick flicks you love all alone on prom night!” Jeremey calls to his back, unable to resist one last potshot.

Harry gives him the finger over his shoulder without even looking back. He suddenly can’t remember what he ever saw in that guy to begin with.

 

**###**

 

It’s not until Harry gets home that the panic sets in. It’s  _ two weeks _ until prom. Jeremy was right. There’s no way he’s going to find a date this close to the dance. He tosses himself down on his bed, when he makes it to his room, and groans into his pillow at his own idiocy. He can’t go without a date now. He can’t give Jeremy the satisfaction.

Head still buried in his pillow, he digs his phone out of his pocket, turning his face to the side so he can see the screen as he scrolls through his contacts.

 

Bryce –  going with Marin.

Chris – going with Tessa.

Dan – refuses to have anything to do with any kind of school function whatsoever.

George – going with James.

Liam – going with Zayn.

Niall – going with Lexi.

Nick – too old for a high school dance.

Xander – at boarding school in London.

 

Harry whimpers and tosses his phone away from himself. He’s got absolutely no friends to turn to for this.

A soft knock at the door has him sitting up and turning to face his mum, standing there in the doorway. “Hi, sweetheart. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Harry says, running a hand through his hair. “Just broke up with Jeremy today, that’s all.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Anne says, moving into the room to sit next to him on his bed. She puts an arm around his shoulders and pulls him into her comforting embrace, his head resting on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Harry tells her with a shrug. “He’s not worth it.”

His mother pulls back from him and cups his cheeks in both of her hands, looking at him carefully. “Are you still up for spending the weekend at Gemma’s?”

“Yeah,” Harry assures her. “I still wanna go.”

Truthfully, there’s a trickle of excitement lighting up his veins at the thought. His sister is practically his best friend now. She hasn’t always been, but it’s been easier to be friends rather than combatant siblings now that she’s away at University. Maybe she can help him out of this predicament.

“Alright then,” Anne agrees easily. “Let me know when you’re ready and I’ll drive you down.”

Harry’s problems, trivial as they are, seem a little bit further away as he packs a duffel for the weekend. Gemma’s been staying in an off-campus flat this year with a roommate that Harry hasn’t met yet. She actually hasn’t said much about her roommate now that Harry thinks about it, just that they’re from England too and really messy but also that she wouldn’t trade them for anything. Harry can’t wait to meet them. Deciding he has everything he needs, he zips up his bag and goes to tell his mum he’s ready.

 

**###**

 

Harry checks the text Gemma sent against the building’s address out the car window. This is apparently the place.

_ ‘I’m here.’  _ Harry sends, sitting in his mother’s idling car. She won’t leave until she knows he’s not going to end up wandering the street because Gemma stepped out for a minute and didn’t get back before they got there or something.

Gemma’s face appears in one of the upper windows of the four story building. She opens it and hangs out over the ledge, waving at them.

Anne leans her head out her own window. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” She yells at her daughter. “Get back inside!”

Gemma laughs but backs up so she’s not leaning out so far. “Love you, too!” She yells back.

Anne rolls her eyes and turns to Harry. “I’m counting on you to be a good influence on her.”

Harry snorts. “Have you  _ met _ your daughter? I mean, I’ll try but no promises. ”

“I’ll take you right back home, mister,” Anne warns playfully.

“No, you won’t,” he argues with a dimple in his cheek. “You might have to miss out on your spa day with Robin tomorrow if you did that.”

Anne laughs. “You’re too smart for your own good,” She says fondly, pulling Harry into a hug.

He hugs his mother and kisses her cheek. “I’ll see you Sunday night. Have fun having the weekend to yourself.” Then, picks up his duffle and shuffles out of the car and up to Gemma’s building.

Her door flies open before he’s even reached it and she pulls him into the flat eagerly, hugging him briefly before dragging him further into the place to show off her very first flat. He barely has time to drop his stuff on the sofa before he’s being pulled to the kitchen.

“This is where we don’t cook,” Gemma informs, dragging him back out again and towards a short hallway. She gestures to the door at the end of the hall. “That’s where Louis doesn’t sleep. Or clean.”

“Wait,” Harry plants his feet when she tries to pull him into her room. “Your roommate is a guy? Does mum know?”

Gemma freezes, turning back to him slowly. “Did I forget to mention that?” She laughs nervously. “Whoops!”

“Gemma,” Harry says in a scolding tone. “You really didn’t tell her?”

“Look,” Gemma sighs. “It’s my flat. I’m paying for it, so I’m allowed to live with whoever I want. I’m just avoiding the drama you know it’s going to cause by not telling her. Besides,” she shrugs easily, “there’s nothing to worry about. Lou is seriously great.”

“Are you dating him? Is that why he doesn’t sleep in his room?” Harry asks, catching his sister off-guard.

“Am I— ,” Gemma cuts herself off with a loud burst of laughter. “Oh my god, no. Just, no,” she answers through her cackles.

“I didn’t think it was such a weird question,” Harry mutters to himself as his sister practically rolls on the floor laughing.

“Trust me, little bro,” Gemma assures him when she can breathe again. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

Well, good. Because Harry really doesn’t fancy hearing sex noises at any point during this visit.

“So, why doesn’t he sleep in his room?” Harry wonders as he lets Gemma pull him into her room to show it off.

“He works at the all-night coffee shop near campus and he’s there late most nights. Crashes on the sofa quite a bit because he doesn’t have the energy to make it to bed,” Gemma informs him. “Anyway, this is my room, where I  _ do _ sleep. What do you think?”

“It’s nice,” Harry supplies after giving it a cursory glance. “So, wait, he comes home from work and passes out on the sofa that  _ I’m _ gonna be sleeping on for the next two nights?”

“Don’t worry,” Gemma tells him with a roll of her eyes. “He knows you’re staying the weekend. He won’t try to climb into bed with you.”

Harry feels more than a little relieved at the knowledge as he trails after Gemma while she shows him the bathroom –  where they don’t shower after 10pm because, for some reason, there’s no hot water anymore until morning.

 

**###**

 

Harry and Gemma eat Chinese takeout for dinner and watch reruns of Antiques Roadshow. Somewhere in the middle of their second episode Harry casually brings up his breakup with Jeremy.

“Aww, Harry,” Gemma coos, tugging him in for a cuddle that he readily accepts. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Harry tries to shrug it off but he can already feel his eyes welling up. “I’m glad I found out who he really was before I did something stupid.”

Gemma pulls back from him to look him in the face. “Tell me you weren’t planning some prom devirginization or something.” He can tell she’s already judging.

“Uh, no,” Harry scoffs. “Just because fifty million other people feel the need to have sex on prom night, doesn’t mean I’m going to follow them over that cliff.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I don’t know,” Harry shrugs. “Falling for him? Following him to whichever University he gets into next year?”

“Oh.”

Harry sighs and rests his head on his sister’s shoulder. “I don’t know what to do, Gems. I was so mad at Jeremy that I bragged that I could get a hot, nice date to prom in two weeks and it’s just not looking good.”

“I might know a few hot, nice guys who would be willing to do me a favor if you want me to ask?” Gemma offers and Harry really loves her but he doesn’t think he can accept.

“I don’t know,” he says with a heavy sigh. “I’d really like to be able to go with someone I actually like. Someone who would take me home after and walk me to the door and maybe, if I’m lucky, give me a goodnight kiss, you know?”

“I do know,” Gemma nods, a sly grin slowly growing on her face. “I know that my baby brother is a total sap.”

“Shut up,” Harry complains, pushing her away playfully. “My big sister is a horrible person.”

“Eat your food before this horrible person steals it for herself,” Gemma says, fighting a smile as she turns back to the television.

Harry follows suit, right down to the almost smile on his face. Visiting his sister was definitely a good idea. He already feels a little bit better.

 

**###**

 

The sound of the front door creaking open wakes Harry up in the middle of the night. He sits up on the sofa, rubbing sleepily at his eyes.

“Sorry,” a raspy whisper reaches out to him through the near dark. “Believe it or not, I  _ was _ trying to be quiet.”

“It’s alright,” Harry tells him sleepily. “I hope you’re Louis and not just a really polite burglar.”

A light laugh drifts to him. It’s a nice laugh. “Don’t worry. I’ll leave you your pants at least.”

Harry grins, this guy is funny. “Who says I’m wearing any?”

“ _ Oh my god _ ,” Louis chokes on his laughter, “I hope you’re my roommate’s little brother and not a naked burglar who fell asleep on the job.”

Harry laughs as he answers, “M’not a burglar. I’m Harry. And I’m not that little actually, but I am wearing pants, just to clarify.”

“Good to know,” that soft chuckle spills out again and Harry really wishes it wasn’t so dark in here. He’d like to see who he’s talking to.

He regrets his wish when the fridge is opened, spilling light into the kitchen and reaching into the living room to assault Harry’s eyes. He squints them shut with a groan, raising his arm to cover his face.

“Sorry,” Louis says, closing the fridge again and returning the room to darkness. “Was just putting away some leftovers from the bakery counter at work.”

“I used to be a baker,” Harry mumbles as he rubs at his eyes. There’s still a blue streak in his vision from the fridge light.

Louis giggles. There’s no other word for it. It’s a high pitched, chirping sound almost and Harry is both instantly endeared and mildly offended. “What’s so funny?” He asks.

“You’re sister told me you’d find a way to work that into conversation. We actually had a bet on how long it would take,” Louis tells him. “Under five minutes. She won. Should have known better than to bet against siblings.”

“Shut up,” Harry laughs. “It was a nice job and I was good at it.”

“Why don’t you still do it then?” Louis wonders and Harry can just barely make out his outline leaning up against the entryway to the kitchen.

“Hey, you’ve been on your feet all night. Do you want to sit? Here, I’ll make room,” Harry offers, moving his covers to give Louis a seat on the sofa.

Louis doesn’t move right away but Harry can see him straighten up where he stands. At least, he  _ thinks _ he can.

“Will you be alright if I turn on the light?” Louis asks, “Bit strange to be carrying on a conversation in the dark.”

“Yeah, go for it,” Harry says, moving to cover his eyes for protection. He can hear Louis’ laugh from under the covers he’s thrown over his head as light leaks through the fabric.

“Determined to stay anonymous, or?”

Harry can feel the dip in the cushions as Louis sits on the other end of the sofa.  He laughs. He’s been doing a lot of that in the last few minutes. It feels good to not be stressed out about prom or Jeremy or  _ anything _ for once. “Just protecting my eyesight,” he says, tugging the covers off his face. He blinks slowly as the covers fall into his lap.

“Holy _ shit _ ,” Louis whispers next to him and Harry turns to look at him for the first time.

_ Fuck. _ Louis is stunning. Even in a much too large hoodie, even with hat hair, even looking dead tired, he’s maybe one of the most beautiful people Harry has ever seen. His bright blue eyes fall to Harry’s naked chest and Harry looks down at himself, suddenly feeling inadequate next to such a good-looking guy. He pulls the covers back up to his chest.

“Sorry,” Harry apologizes for his partial nudity. “I am wearing pants,” he reminds Louis for some reason. “I mean, at home I don’t wear anything to bed but I figured I probably should since I’m not  _ at _ home and oh my _ god _ , I’m gonna shut up now.”

And there’s that laugh again. That laugh makes the way Harry’s cheeks are burning well worth it.

“Thanks for not putting your dick all over my napping spot,” Louis says with a grin. The laughter, the smile, all of it seems to light up Louis’ eyes and Harry feels a little like he could fall into them.

“Yeah, sorry about that too,” Harry tells him, looking down at Louis’ hoodie instead of his face. Too long staring at that face will be his undoing, he’ll never want to look at anything else ever again.

“Gemma told me you crash here most of the time.”

Louis shrugs, “S’alright. I’ve got a big family, lots of little sisters that would come to my room when they’d had nightmares or when me mum and dad were fighting before the divorce. Guess I just can’t get used to sleeping alone in that big ol’ bed.”

Why does Harry want to volunteer to make it more comfortable for him? To join him in his room and cuddle him in to help him sleep. He scratches the back of his neck instead of saying any of that. “Um.”

“Oh god, not that I’m trying to swipe the sofa from you. I’ll be fine for a few days. No worries, mate,” Louis says, punctuating the statement with a yawn.

“You’re tired,” Harry observes, “you should go to bed.”

Louis scrubs at his eyes. “You’re probably right,” he agrees but doesn’t move from where he’s sitting. “Or, if you’re awake now, we could watch something.”

“Uh,” Harry hesitates. Louis looks really tired and Harry really doesn’t want to be what keeps him up. On the other hand, Louis obviously doesn’t want to go to bed, this was his idea after all. “Okay. Yeah. What do you want to watch?”

Louis grins, wide and eager. “Have you ever seen  _ Vikings _ ?”

 

_**15 Days Until Prom** _

 

Harry’s eyes flutter open gradually. The sun is up, lighting up the room from the east window. He blinks but he’s so comfortable, he doesn’t feel like moving. He snuggles into his pillow and closes his eyes again.

Unfortunately, the clinking noises from the kitchen refuse to let him have his peace so he grudgingly sits up, running a hand through his sleep-tossed curls. He turns his head when he sees his sister exit the kitchen from the corner of his eye and finds her smirking at him.

“Well, it looks like I lied about my roommate, but in my defense I seriously didn’t think he’d actually crawl into bed with you.”

Harry scrunches his eyes at his sister because  _ what _ ? He has no idea what she’s talking about. Until he turns to look at the other end of the sofa and sees Louis still sitting there, sleeping peacefully with his head drooping to his chest. Harry winces in sympathy for how his neck is going to feel when he moves it.

“We should wake him up,” Harry says, watching with concern as Louis’ eyelids flutter against his cheeks. “He’s gonna hurt his neck sleeping like that.”

“Go ahead,” Gemma encourages him turning back to the kitchen. “I’ve already taken the blackmail pictures.”

Harry shakes his head at his sister. She didn’t take any pictures… did she? Nah, probably not. He reaches over and shakes Louis’ shoulder, calling his name quietly. “Louis.”

Louis opens his eyes, a slow blink as he looks at Harry, still a little dazed from whatever he was dreaming. He smiles when he sees Harry hovering in front of him. “Harry, hi.” But then his face clears of anything left over from sleep and he looks down at where he is, coming to the realization of where he slept last night. “Shit. I passed out here,” he states obviously. “I’m sorry. I meant to go to bed when you fell asleep.”

“It’s fine, Louis,” Harry assures him. “I didn’t even notice you were there until Gemma said something.”

“Oh god, Gemma,” Louis groans, leaning his head back against the sofa. “She’s never going to let me forget this.”

“Nope,” Gemma agrees, entering the room with a tea tray. She puts it down on the coffee table and starts pouring Louis a cup. “Never.”

“Don’t worry,” Harry tells him, leaning in like he’s sharing a secret.  “She has a horrible memory. She’ll forget in three or four years.”

Louis’ lips thin out as he lifts the cup of tea Gemma made him to take a sip. Harry thinks maybe he’s trying not to smile because there’s merriment in his eyes. “That’s okay. I’ve got dirt on her, too.”

Harry doesn’t think he likes the way that comment makes Gemma squeak or the devilish spark in Louis’ eyes. “Whatever it is, please never tell me,” Harry laments. He really doesn’t want to know.

“Don’t worry, Harry,” Louis grins. “It’s not suitable for little ears.”

“I’m bigger than you,” Harry mutters into the tea cup Gemma passes to him.

“Probably not where it counts,” Louis counters, winking when Harry turns to him with wide eyes.

“If one of you pulls out a ruler, I’m leaving,” Gemma comments watching them both like she doesn’t quite know what to make of their easy banter.

“I think I have one in my bag actually,” Harry grins at her.

“Trying to be alone with my roommate, baby brother?” She replies with a smug expression as Harry’s cheeks go pink.

“Yes,” Harry deadpans. “I like him better than you.”

Gemma snorts and says something under breath that, thankfully, Harry can’t hear. There are several things in life that he doesn’t need to know. ‘Things Gemma doesn’t feel like she should say aloud’ are definitely filed under that category.

“So, what are we doing today?” Harry asks his sister as he sets his cup down on the tea tray, an obvious ploy to change the subject.

“Sadly,  _ I’m _ going to bed,” Louis inserts into the conversation, putting his empty cup of tea back on the tray too. “I have a double at the café tonight.”

Harry feels an unreasonable amount of sadness at the news. He likes Louis. He’s funny and nice and hot… Thinking those words gives Harry a sense of déjà vu and has him cutting his eyes over to Louis as the other boy stands to make his way to his room. Nice and hot and just a couple of years older than Harry. But he doesn’t know if Louis feels anything about him one way or the other. He doesn’t even know if Louis likes boys.

Harry shakes his head to clear the crazy from his thoughts. He’s only known Louis for a few hours. The idea of asking him to prom is preposterous. “Goodnight, Louis,” Harry offers with a wave over his shoulder.

“Have a good day, Harry,” Louis laughs, wandering down the hall to his room.

“So,” Gemma says into the silence that falls in Louis’ absence. “When did you two become such good mates?”

Harry flops back down on his pillow and pulls the covers over his head, hiding from his sister’s knowing gaze.

“I did tell you I knew some hot, nice guys,” Harry hears over the tinkling of the tea tray as his sister moves to take it away again.

He groans into his pillow and pretends he hates her for it.

 

**###**

 

Harry is awoken again by the creak of the front door. He’s wide awake the second he realizes what it is because he also realizes  _ who _ it is.

“Really have to fix that thing,” Louis mutters when Harry sits up, closing the door behind him.

“Doesn’t bother me,” Harry tells him, voice deep with sleep. “If it weren’t for your creaky door we would have hardly met at all.”

Louis flips the light switch and Harry can finally catch his grin. “Suppose it does have its uses.”

Louis’ eyes flick down to the t-shirt Harry’s wearing and then back up again to his face, smirk on his lips.

“What are those?” Harry asks, trying to draw attention away from the fact that he’s obviously put on clothing for Louis’ benefit and nodding to the plastic container in Louis’ hand.

“Snacks,” Louis answers, putting down the container on the table so that Harry can clearly see inside.

“Banana nut bread?”

“And marble cake behind it,” Louis replies, moving into the kitchen. “Are you up for more Vikings? I think you fell asleep in the middle of episode two last night.”

“Sure,” Harry agrees. Really, he just likes spending time with Louis. He doesn’t much care what they watch. “Are you sure you don’t need to sleep?”

“Nah,” Louis answers walking back into the living room carrying two plates, two forks, and two bottles of water. He puts everything down on the table and sits on the cushion next to Harry. “I have the day off tomorrow. I’m good for a bit.”

Harry settles in next to him, reaching for a plate and opening the container to get a piece of that banana bread. He cuts a piece with his fork once he’s purloined a slice and takes a bite, moaning around the tasty morsel. “That’s good.”

“You like it?” Louis asks, looking at him intently.

“Do you make noises like that when you  _ don’t _ like something?” Harry teases. “Of course, I like it.”

Louis turns his eyes to the tv as he sets them up on Netflix but his gaze seems a little unfocused. “I made it,” he confesses.

“Really?” Harry asks. “Gemma said neither one of you cooked.”

“Well, yeah,” Louis tells him. “Can’t let the roommate know you can cook or you’ll be doing it every day.”

Harry laughs. “Good point. Especially with Gemma.”

Louis stays quiet for a while, eating a slice of cake himself and watching the show, glancing over every now and again to see if Harry is enjoying himself.

“Are you going to try the marble cake?” He asks eventually.

“Yeah,” Harry answers, immediately reaching for it. Louis’ hand captures his wrist, grip loose but warm.

“You don’t have to. I was just curious.”

“Of course I’m going to,” Harry argues. “It looks scrumptious.”

“ _Scrumptious_ ,” Louis repeats softly. Shaking his head at Harry with a fond grin. “Who even says that anymore?”

“I do,” Harry huffs teasingly. “Now be quiet so I can enjoy the show and my cake in peace.”

The marble cake is as good as it looks and Harry makes sure to tell Louis when he’s finished.

Louis accepts the praise with a wink and turns back to the television.

“Hey, Harry?” Louis asks a second later, waiting until Harry turns to him to continue. “You never did tell me why you quit the bakery.”

“Oh,” Harry fiddles with the rings he wears on his fingers. “I quit to spend more time with my boyfriend.”

“Oh. You have a boyfriend?” Louis asks, his voice sounding dull, like someone has sucked all the life out of it. Harry’s not sure how to take that.

“Not anymore,” he answers quietly, going back to the show.

Louis doesn’t comment, letting them fall back into silence.

The show is in the middle of a pretty steamy sex scene when Harry feels something move against his leg. He turns to Louis’ chest brimming with hope that something might be happening but Louis is just stealing some of Harry’s covers, throwing them over his legs.

There’s a sinking feeling in Harry’s chest when he realizes that he’s misconstrued everything.

God, he’s such an idiot. He’s turning back to the television to hide his embarrassment when Louis stops him.

“Hey,” he says, one hand reaching out to cup Harry’s cheek so that he can’t turn away, blue eyes resting on Harry’s face. “You have a little something…,” He moves his hand, gently brushing a crumb off of Harry’s cheek.

Harry can’t stop staring at Louis’ eyes. Their faces are so close right now, he can feel Louis’ breath on his lips.

“There,” Louis says, smiling in satisfaction when Harry’s face is clean, moving his gaze to meet Harry’s. He seems to realize in increments what’s going through Harry’s mind. Eyes widening and smile turning into something else. His stare shoots down to Harry’s lips and then back up to his eyes and he breathes in a quick, little gasp.

Harry blinks at that little breath and pulls away, looking down at his hands in his lap and trying not to die of embarrassment. It’s obviously not happening with Louis. He doesn’t  _ want _ to kiss Harry. Maybe he’s even mortified that his roommate’s little brother wants to kiss him in the first place.

“Harry?” Louis calls softly, placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“You know, I’m feeling kind of tired,” Harry says instead of answering. “I think I’m going to go to sleep now.”

“Harry,” Louis sighs but doesn’t put up much of a fuss when Harry fluffs his pillow and lays down on it. “If you’re sure,” he says, picking up the remote and turning off the television. He removes Harry’s covers from his legs and stands to head to his room, hesitating beside the sofa. “Goodnight, Harry.”

“Goodnight,” Harry returns, squeezing his eyes shut and willing himself to fall asleep quickly. It doesn’t work.

 

**_ 14 Days Until Prom _ **

 

There’s a note for Harry in the morning when he wakes. Gemma was called into work so it’s just going to be him and Louis today until his mother picks him up.

Harry crumples the note in his hand and groans in frustration. Of course.

“Hey,” Louis greets when he comes out of his room, looking around the apartment. “Where’s Gemma?”

Harry takes another bite of the cereal he poured for himself, eyes glued to the t.v. and answers shortly, “Work.”

“Oh.”

Louis stands there awkwardly for a second, like he’s not sure what to do with himself. Harry glances at him and his heart clenches, seeing the boy look so lost in his own home.

“Um, do you want to watch something?” Harry asks because that seems to be their go-to  _ thing _ .

“Yeah,” Louis answers, sounding inordinately relieved. “What are you watching?”

“Something about crab fishing?” Harry informs him with a shrug. “It was on when I woke up. Gemma must have been watching it.”

“Oh, Deadliest Catch? Sick,” Louis flops down on the sofa next to Harry and it’s like that embarrassing moment last night never happened.

They talk and laugh and Harry feels a lot better knowing that Louis is willing to put that almost-kiss  _ fiasco _ behind them and still allow them to form something like a friendship.

 

_**7 Days Until Prom** _

 

Harry huffs out a sad, slow breath as he stares up from his bed at his tux hanging in its garment bag on the back of his bedroom door. He raises his phone and types out a text to Liam.

_ ‘Is it stupid if I ask Nick to take me to Prom?’ _

It only takes Liam a few seconds to respond.

_ ‘Do you want people to think you’re there with your dad?’ _

Harry scoffs.

_ ‘He’s not that old.’ _

Liam doesn’t respond to that. Harry needs better friends.

 

**_ 6 Days Until Prom _ **

 

_ ‘Watching Vikings alone is no fun.’ _

The text comes from a mystery number right after Harry gets out of school. He squints at his screen because there’s only one person it could be from.

_ ‘Not watching it at all isn’t much fun either.’  _ Harry sends the reply before he can second guess himself. He’s been missing spending time with Louis more than he’s willing to admit but he didn’t dare let himself believe their friendship would go beyond the apartment Louis shared with Gemma.

_ ‘We could watch it together again sometime. Maybe tomorrow?’ _

Harry smiles down at his phone.

_ 'Yes, please.’  _ Well, maybe their friendship would be confined to the apartment but it didn’t have to be confined to the weekends.

_ ‘I’ll pick you up from school.’ _

Harry knows he shouldn’t make too much of it, but Louis picking him up in front of his friends feels special somehow.

‘ _ Ok.’ _  Harry expects that to be the end of it. Louis liked hanging out with him so he reached out to set up a time they could hang out again. But then:

_ ‘Can I make a confession?’ _

Harry’s heart jumps as the latest message from Louis. He’s not sure what to say. What if Louis is about to tell him that Gemma is blackmailing him into hanging out with Harry? What if it’s a confession Harry doesn’t want to hear?

_ ‘Sure.’ _ He types it and sends it before he can change his mind, hoping,  _ praying _ he didn’t just make a really stupid decision.

_ ‘I wanted to kiss you that night.’ _

Harry’s heart stops. Louis wanted to kiss him. He could have kissed Louis. Fuck.

_ ‘Me too.’ _ He sends because if they’re making confessions, Harry might as well go all in.

_ ‘Maybe we can do that tomorrow too.’ _

God, Harry hopes so.

 

**_ 5 Days Until Prom _ **

 

Harry rushes outside after the last bell rings. He doesn’t know exactly when Louis will be outside to pick him up but he’s anxious to get the show on the road, so to speak.

He’s at the front of a large group of students exiting the building when he stops short at the spectacle waiting for him.

Louis is parked right in front of the building, looking like a dream leaning against a powder blue, vintage convertible. He’s looking utterly posh in a tux, holding a sign that says “Prom Date Wanted. Prerequisites: Must Be Named Harry Styles.”

Harry shakes his head, laughing. Fuck, he likes this boy. He works to keep a straight face as he walks over to the car as nonchalantly as possible, double-taking like he’s just seeing the sign for the first time.

“Oh,” he feigns surprise. “ _ My name _ is Harry Styles.”

“Well, isn’t that fortunate for both of us?” Louis smirks.

Harry gives him a very clear, leering once-over. “ _ Yes _ , it is.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “You know, I’m not sure I believe you. I might need to see some I.D.”

“I mean, my eyes are here,” Harry points to his eyes. “And my ‘d’ is—”

He’s muffled by Louis putting a hand over his mouth. “I know where it is, thank you,” Louis laughs. His gaze softens and he lowers his hand to ask, “So, what do you say? Will you take me to Prom with you?”

Harry drops his façade too, nodding with a sappy grin. “Yeah. How’d you know?”

“You have a meddling older sister, don’t you?”

Harry bites his lip, suddenly worried about Louis’ motivation. “Is that why—”

“No,” Louis cuts him off. “I’m doing this because I want to. Because I like you. Quite a bit actually.”

“I like you, too. So much,” Harry says, crowding in close to him. “Do you think we could have that kiss now?”

Louis glances at the crowd of students, some watching, most moving along to wherever they’re going. “Now?”

Harry looks at him through his eyelashes, feeling a little shy but determined not to miss out again. “We should have had our first kiss a week ago, I don’t want to wait a second longer.”

Louis pulls him in, tugging him by his t-shirt. “When you put it like that…”

Louis’ lips are soft against Harry’s, a gentle pressure that gives way to warm, wet open-mouthed kisses. Louis’ tongue dips into Harry’s mouth and Harry meets it with his own, tangling his fingers in Louis’ hair while Louis’ hands find a home on his waist.

When the kiss breaks, Harry rests his head on Louis’ chest to hide his uncontrollable smile.

“Well, that was fast,” A voice breaks through Harry’s revelry and he raises his head to find Jeremy sneering at him and Louis. “Congratulations. You found a prom date in under two weeks,” he claps his hands sarcastically. “Looks like you win the bet.”

Louis raises an eyebrow at Jeremy’s speech. He has to know everything out of Jeremy's mouth is a lie because _Gemma_ was the one to explain everything. Harry never said a word to him about prom.

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Jeremy keeps talking. “Yeah, Harry here bet me he could find a prom date in two weeks after I broke up with him. And he’s not gonna put out, by the way.”

“Is that true, Harry?” Louis asks turning to Harry but there’s something in his eyes that tells him Louis isn’t taking this seriously. “Am I a bet?”

“Yep,” Harry tells him, playing along with whatever Louis’ got up his sleeve. “You know me, I just can’t resist a good bet.”

“I do know that,” Louis nods solemnly. “It looks like you won our bet too, babe.”

Harry squints, pretending to try and remember what Louis’ talking about. “Which one was that?”

“Oh, that would be the one where your shitty ex tries to break us up because he’s a jealous fuck who never deserved you in the first place.”

“Ohhhhh, yeah. I remember that one. I did win, didn’t I?” Harry grins. “Guess it’s time to pay up.”

Louis puts a finger to his chin, looking thoughtful for a second. “What did we agree on as payment?”

“I do believe it was a kiss.”

“Oh, yeah,” Louis nods, pulling Harry in again. He grins at Harry, making his heart beat out a staccato rhythm full of trips and pauses, then wraps a hand around the back of Harry’ neck and yanks him closer, licking into his mouth hungrily right in front of Jeremy.

Harry’s knees go weak and he’s not even sure when Jeremy leaves but he’s not there when they pull apart.

“You ready to go, babe?” Louis asks, taking Harry by the hand and leading him to the passenger side of the car.

“I’m ready,” Harry tells him, smiling when Louis opens the door for him. He drops into the seat and throws his bookbag in the back.

Louis circles the car and gets in the driver’s seat, putting the keys in the ignition. He’s about to turn over the engine when Harry stops him with a hand on his.

“I feel like I should tell you, Jeremy wasn’t lying about the sex thing. I don’t plan to have sex until I’m ready for it.”

Louis leans over and kisses Harry’s lips gently. “That’s perfect, babe. I’m happy to just sit and cuddle if that’s what you want.”

“Really?” Harry asks. “Not many guys are okay with waiting.”

Louis looks at Harry and smiles. It’s a smile full of so much warmth and feeling that Harry is a little overwhelmed by it. “I’d wait quite a long time for you, Harry Styles.”

“How long is that?” Harry asks teasingly, not expecting a response.

“I think maybe forever.”

It doesn’t take forever. It takes just long enough for a prom, a high school graduation (a year later), and a wedding ceremony.

And then "forever" takes on a whole new meaning.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think.


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